


I've Never Danced In The Rain

by Desdimonda



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Rain, Smut, thunderstorm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 22:03:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3265946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desdimonda/pseuds/Desdimonda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saga can't sleep and goes for a walk in the Emerald Groves. A storm is fast approaching; the world is hot, humid, unforgiving. Solas finds her at the ancient ruins of a temple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Never Danced In The Rain

The air was thick, cloying, unwelcome. Even though the last fingers of light had faded hours before, the air still hung breathless, uncomfortable. Each breath she took felt like tar, her limbs awkward and heavy. Bare feet traversed the ground, toes sinking into the spongy moss that was scattered in clumps across the plains.

Saga paused, resting her hand against a shattered pillar; it was cool to the touch. She leant against it, the broken tip circled her head, giving her an asymmetrical crown, tips almost sharp enough to cut. She tilted back her head, eyes wandering to the night sky.

No stars littered the sky tonight, there was no twitter of light. Thick, muggy clouds hung low, hiding the moon. A distant rumble of thunder bellowed across the groves; seconds later a spear of lightning lit up the sky. Saga felt the hairs on her body bristle, rippling to a peak. She smiled with a quiver of anticipation of the rain; it was most welcome.

‘You should not be out alone, unarmed,’ said a familiar, decadent voice. Solas.

Saga tilted her head to the side, watching him walk to her, hands clasped at his back, like always.

‘And what in these plains are a threat to me?’ asked Saga, pushing back her tangle of hair. ‘The halla? The impending rainfall?’

Solas took a step closer. ‘I hear wolves prowl these plains.’

A gentle laugh passed Saga’s lips. ‘I’ve fought things tougher than wolves; I fear nothing.’

‘Nothing?’ repeated Solas. He took another step.

‘Nothing,’ breathed Saga, tilting back her head against the pillar.

‘Arrogance does not become you, Inquisitor,’ he said, drawing his hands across her shoulders, the tips of his fingers gracing her neck.

‘And what does?’ she asked with a playful smile, letting his hands glide through her hair.

‘You do not need me to tell you such things, vhenan. You already know.’ They shared a laugh, breathy, light, just before their lips met, in a wild, wanting kiss.

Their kiss accompanied another roar of thunder; it trembled the earth, rippling through the grass, tapping at their toes, making the shattered ruins at Saga’s back shake. The stone bit into her skin, poking through the thin top she wore. The first pat, pat of rain fell from the sky, slipping on their warm skin. Arms that had hung loosely at her side, now slid around Solas, eager fingers tugging beneath his top, nails hooking into the fleecy material that he always wore.

‘Did I ever tell you,’ she breathed against his skin, lips dragging across his cheek, ‘I’ve never danced in the rain?’

Another tremble bounded across the sky, accompanied but a second later with a fork of light. The sky paused with a muggy breath, with that quiet moment just before the swell of rain tore through the clouds. The drops pelted the plains, pat, pat on the grass, on the ruins, on their skin.

'Never?' he said, taking a step back, watching her flinch as the rain dappled her skin, fat, thick drops flattening her messy hair.

'No,' she said with a laugh as he took her hands and pulled her along the grove, traversing shattered stone that poked through the grass. 'Why, have you?'

'More than once,' he said as they walked, smiles widening with laughter.

'I forget you're really old,' she teased.

Solas guided her through the ruins, where once stood a temple to Elgar’nan. The motif of his status, of his name was etched into the pillars, and it splayed out beneath their bare feet; worn, barely visible. Moss filled in the grooves of ancient words only he understood; he wished to stop, to sit down and tell her what they meant, and how he knew.

But as she caught his gaze, her smile; playful, carefree, was all that mattered. It was a rare sight of late to see her cast aside the weight of her title; to see her laugh, to see her be free.

'Okay, all I am so far is wet,' she said, drops of warm rain falling off the tips of her ears.

'Then, let us dance.'

Just as he pulled her close, chest to chest, the clouds roared once more, accompanied by a tandem split of light, forking across the grey sky. He held her hand high, her other rested on his shoulder. Familiar fingers sank into her bank, splayed, supporting her lithe frame as he turned her around, step one, step two, a little hop over a shattered wall, and step three.

A trill of laughter passed her lips, it lifted her cheeks to her eyes, brightened by the lightning that crowned their dance. Light steps moved across the wet ground, dappled with tufts of grass; puddles were already forming, and their feet cast up several sprays. White, wavy hair billowed across her back, swirling with each step, with each dip of her body.

Their bodies stayed as one, never parting, hip by hip. Legs moved in echo, bare feet tapping against the stone floor, etched with ancient words. Saga felt him release her, her nimble steps catching her balance as she twirled beneath his outstretched arm, her white hair fanning like a swathe of silk dappled by rain. With a single motion, fluid and strong, he pulled her back, chest on chest, lips parted, an inch apart.

Hands sought hands, fingers slipping together in trepidation. Eyes met eyes, unwilling to look away. The rain fell, the sky roared, the lightning crackled; the world became an accompaniment to them, and them alone. Lips that parted, now met with a kiss; wild, wanting, desperate. His hands slid across her cheeks, tangling in her hair, holding still her head.

Saga gripped his shoulders and lifted her legs, hooking them around his waist. They shared a laugh through their kiss as she did, as he regained his balance, fingers hooking into her backside, sinking into the flesh, still covered by her trousers, wet from the rain. He took a step back, colliding with a pillar. They broke their kiss, long enough for Saga to untie her breeches, tugging them past her hips, just enough. He mimicked her motions, the lace of his trousers falling at their feet. He reached out to pull her back, disliking each moment they were apart. But she resisted, dropping to her knees.

Her fingers met his arousal first, freeing it from beneath his long tunic, then her lips followed. She slid up, and down, rhythmic, fluid, spurred on by his fingers that clutched her hair, twisting in tandem to her motions. She touched the soft hairs that crowned his cock, mimicking his hands. She laughed, gently, the gentle vibrato pleasant against his skin.

The rain still fell, wild, unforgiving. The storm was their accompaniment, their catalyst. Hairs stood on end with each dash of light, rippling across wet, humid skin. Their hearts paused with each roar of the sky, with each roll of her tongue, with each touch of his hands.

Solas moaned into the night air as the girl at his feet moved back and forth, her tongue doing just what he loved, where he loved. She drew her fingers across his stomach, nails dragging across the flesh, marking his skin; marking her skin. His hands that slid through her hair provided no guidance, for she needed none. The sky roared once more; he threw back his head, feeling himself near the edge.

Not yet.

With a swift motion, he pulled back Saga’s head, his wet, hard arousal sat against her flushed lips, dark, against her pale skin. She smiled. He hauled her to her feet, and she responded in kind, with her legs sliding around his waist once more. Eager, wet, hungry hands splayed across each other’s bodies, gripping where they could. Solas flipped her around, slamming her back against the pillar, just as he slid his cock inside, parting her hot, wet lips.

Saga cried out into the night, unwilling to quell her voice, unwilling to hide her lust. She clung to the pillar with her calloused hands, fingers dragging along the stone as she tried to steady her body. Wet hair clung to her skin; it draped down her neck, mingled across her shoulders, strands painting her lips with cracks of white.

Each thrust sent her body crashing against the pillar, the stone biting, again, and again, and again. She did not protest; she couldn’t; she wouldn’t. Her heels hooked in at his back, her taut thighs clenched into his waist, feeling the nick of his familiar hipbone, the one she loved to kiss, to pepper with her lips.

Solas leaned forward, sinking his teeth into her neck. Saga whimpered; the throaty moan vibrated against his lips. Hands slipped off the pillars and found his neck. clutching the skin, like the tip of a dagger, nip, nip, at his flesh. Fingertips glided along the slide of his ears, nip, nip at the point; it always made him quiver.

He responded in earnest; each thrust was quicker; harder. He sank further in, bodies pressed together, no space for the rain. It instead trailed across their heads, spotting Solas’s dome, falling down the slide of his ears, across her fingers that held his head.

He could feel the tremble of her body; he could feel the quaver in her voice, the whisper of words on her lips that pressed against his ear. She was almost there, as was he. He breathed her name into the air, into her ear, against her hair. His voice cracked, broken with emotion as the swell of his orgasm gripped his body.

Saga’s heels digged in; hard, still, as her body seized with the swathes of her orgasm. It rippled across her body, prickling the hairs on her wet skin, fluttering her eyelids, staggering her husky moans and whispers of his name. The sky sang in echo of their moans, it swelled, crying out to the night as the lovers shared their union, hot, wet, breathless, beneath the sky.

Lips met lips, hands held each others heads. After a moment, they parted, noses touching, sharing a ripple of laughter as they smiled. Saga bit the edge of her lip, catching his gaze.

‘You dance well,’ she said, kissing the corner of his lips, thumbs glancing beneath his eyes.

‘You dance better, with a beauty, with a delicate balance I have not seen since - since my youth,’ he faltered, kissing her again.

‘So you’re suggesting I’m graceful?’ she teased, echoing the words of a time long gone.

‘No. I’m declaring it,’ he said, smiling, touching her forehead with his. ‘It was not a subject for debate.’

Saga laughed, looking within his grey eyes that spoke louder than words ever could.


End file.
